


Almost Too Good to be True

by DunmerLover



Series: The Hero and the Knight [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: Dunmer/Imperial, Dunmer/human, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Male Masturbation, OC worships Farwil, Oral Sex, Post-Quest, Rough Sex, Some Plot, Some exhibitionism, The Wayward Knight, some voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 18:38:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13932921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DunmerLover/pseuds/DunmerLover
Summary: Following the closure of the Oblivion gate outside Cheydinhal, Farwil Indarys finds a way to properly thank the woman who saved his life.





	Almost Too Good to be True

**Author's Note:**

> I get the feeling that most people didn't like Farwil all that much. This is for the people who did. I spent much of an evening ~~trying to get him to not jump off the fucking bridge~~ making sure to rescue him and Bremman because he's damn gorgeous. I don't care if he's an ass. Obviously after that, my trash brain started getting ideas about how I REALLY wanted him to thank me. And so this was the result. Just a little smut thing.
> 
> There's two parts to this story. I decided to split them into distinct stories because the second will have a far more depressing feel to it, and I wrote this one with celebration and victory in mind, and I wanted it to stay that way. I wanted this to be a happy story for the most part.
> 
> There's a considerable exhibitionism element in this story, that just _happened_. I didn't start out planning it to be in there but it happened mostly because I wanted to stress that Bremman was still alive too, and it just seemed right. So have Farwil Indarys the exhibitionist.

The moonlit streets were alive with merriment that night. Some say the noise from most of Cheydinhal celebrating the victory carried for miles outside the city walls. In every inn, the mead and wine flowed like a steady river - in the Great Hall of the Castle, more like a waterfall. The ever-looming threat of the Oblivion gate so close to the city had every citizen on edge for days - the near-constant stream of monsters it bore had the city guard stretched to the limit, and only with the arrival of the ambassador to the Blades had it finally shut. For this, the people of Cheydinhal had every right to celebrate. Tonight they honoured the one known in scattered groups as the Hero of Kvatch, and they honoured her readily and raucously. However, they never expected they’d be honouring the Knights of the Thorn for the same reason.

Those who joined the Count and his son in the Great Hall weren’t particularly surprised to see Farwil Indarys and the city’s hero getting along _especially_ well. They hardly tore their eyes away from each other for the entirety of the festivities and they never stopped smiling. Nobody was surprised when they began to share a kiss every few minutes. Coming as close to death as those two had… perhaps that could change one’s perspective, encourage them to take opportunities like this while they were still alive. They’d probably bonded while they together escaped whatever lay in wait behind that portal, too.

Nobody was the slightest bit surprised the two youngsters had taken such an interest in one another - they were around the same age, and they were both, quite frankly, utterly gorgeous examples of their respective sexes. That much could not be denied, even if most of Cheydinhal regarded Farwil as a complete ass. Judging by the way the Hero of Kvatch doted on him though, she didn’t seem to share that opinion.

As the evening went by, the guests merely chuckled and rolled their eyes as holding hands under the table progressed to exploring each other far more intimately, and each kiss was deeper, more passionate and longer than the last. It was when they finally stopped coming up for air at all, and their hero chose Farwil’s lap over her own seat that they were booted out of the Hall and advised to continue elsewhere. Still, the guests laughed. They expected nothing less from Farwil. Even the Count himself couldn’t hold back a reluctant smile.

The two didn’t seem to care all that much. Iliana Dantian tore her mouth from Farwil’s for just long enough to retrieve her weapon from its rack and bid the guests a polite farewell, before the Imperial and the Dunmer locked lips again and made a hasty retreat from the Hall. As soon as the door closed, Farwil backed Ili roughly against the corridor wall with his own eager body, still exploring her mouth with his own tongue. The girl gasped in pain as the hard metal warhammer dug into her bare back, and she broke away.

She regained her composure quickly. “What now?” she asked, looking up at Farwil adoringly. She expected him to come up with a plan.

Indeed, the elf smiled confidently. “I know somewhere we can go… come with me.”

Ili nearly tripped over her own feet in her haste to leave the castle. She and Farwil chased each other through the hallways, out the great doors, into the warm night air and across the courtyard, hand in hand the whole time. All the while, the sounds of jubilation from every citizen in every street was like music to their ears. Somewhere out there a bard had started a fast and lively tune, and more and more people began to dance and clap along by the second, spurred on by the cheers of the drunk and merry.

“Must I chase you the whole way, Ili?” Farwil called out. “You don’t even know where we’re going!”

That made Ili stop in her tracks, and turn back to him. She wore a sly smirk. “Chasing me around gets on your nerves then?” she goaded. “Considering the hours I spent chasing you through that gods-foresaken tower, maybe you _owe_ it!”

“You were not _chasing_ me, I was leading the assault whilst you and Bremman lagged behind.”

Ili snorted derisively. “It was all I could do just to keep you alive in there, Farwil! I was _this close_ to hitting you with a paralyse spell to keep you from charging off!” She held up finger and thumb of her free hand to illustrate. “No wonder your father sent me to rescue you!”

“Oh, _please_ … we didn’t need _rescuing!_ A Knight of the Thorn _never_ needs to be rescued!”

The pair ambled through the city gate and into the fields. A cool breeze played against their skin. It was a little quieter out here, but the celebration continued in small, scattered groups of people, whether they were perched on a fence or laying in a field. “Yeah? Then what was I doing there?”

Farwil smirked. “You played your part as a very capable backup.”

“So when you tried to jump off the bridge after that Dremora…” Ili mused, her voice laden with sarcasm. “And I barely had time to grab you before you did… that was _backing you up?_ ”

“Very capably.”

Ili chuckled and shook her head. “It _was_ very daring, I have to admit,” she added. “Not many people would take on three Daedra at once. You put your life at risk to close that gate. You’re so… _brave_ …”

Farwil nodded as the Imperial continued to gaze at him in awe. “That I am,” he said proudly. “Bremman was also heroic. You exceeded all our expectations, too… you swing that hammer around as though it’s weightless - I’ve seen orc men twice your size struggle to wield a weapon like that!”

Ili beamed. Farwil opened a gate, and stood aside for the girl to pass. “Is that a compliment?” she asked. Her heart only pounded faster when she noticed her companion was still pitching a very generous tent. This would be a night to remember, she knew that much.

“It was if it were a part of you,” he said. “I’ve never seen anything like it… what’s your secret?”

The pair approached a remote house, but didn’t enter right away. Ili smirked before offering the elf another deep kiss, tasting the sweetness of a fine wine that still lingered on his tongue. Her body pressed tauntingly against his. “You really want to know?”

The Imperial finally let go of Farwil’s hand, took the massive weapon off her back, and held it out for him to take. “Here, try it.”

The Dunmer didn’t take it at first. He first ran his fingers appreciatively over the dark filigree, and pondered over whether Ili had looted the hammer from another unfortunate Daedric being at some point in time, or failing that, how much it might’ve cost her. Eventually he braced himself for the weight and took the hammer in two hands. Huge crimson eyes widened ever further when he found it to be, truly, almost weightless.

He laughed. “You really are full of surprises!” he said, and passed the weapon back to Ili. “Most people enchant their weapons with Destruction magic.”

Ili said nothing, offering only her grin that stretched from ear to ear, and a shy chuckle. Together, they entered the warmth and quiet of the Knights of the Thorn’s Lodge, kicked off their boots, and climbed a flight of stairs.

Farwil led the girl to the bed in an alcove, and there he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her as though tomorrow would never come, grinding his hips against hers. Small, contented noises formed in his throat only to be lost in Ili’s mouth. The weapon dropped from her hand and hit the floor with a loud clatter, and her own arms found their way around the mer’s neck. Farwil removed his tunic with haste and pulled off Ili’s cowl. A torrent of long, dark blond hair fell about the girl’s shoulders and chest. Halfway through unbuckling her gauntlets, he faltered, fumbling aimlessly with leather straps and warm glass.

Ili frowned, hazel eyes narrowing. “What’s wrong?”

He stared at her as though he’d never seen her before. Of course, she’d struck him the moment he laid eyes on her, and it was when they first met in that wasteland he decided he _had_ to have her, but everything happened far too fast for him to take in just how beautiful she was. Far too good for him to deserve, he thought for a moment, before casting that rather intrusive thought away. A dark hand grazed her freckled cheekbone and ran through the soft gold locks, and for a moment they only gazed deep into each other’s eyes.

“Nothing,” Farwil eventually said.

His warm smile returned, and he pulled off the gauntlets, moving onto Ili’s light armour vest. However when her eyes drifted across the other side of the room to the Imperial sleeping there, her gaze stayed fixed on him.

“Is this such a good idea with Bremman right over there?” she suggested. “What if he wakes up? Won’t he hear?”

Farwil grinned wickedly. “We’ve all been staying here a long time… trust me, it’s nothing he hasn’t seen or heard before.”

At first glance he didn’t strike Ili as a man who got off to that kind of idea, yet the weight in his words, carefully-placed, and the flash of excitement in his eyes, they told her all she needed to know. Ili considered that it was also entirely possible Bremman would sleep through it - he’d been so exhausted he left the celebrations early. So she shrugged and claimed Farwil’s mouth again, and allowed him to finish unbuckling her vest. When he did, the man’s breath hitched a little as he set eyes on her breasts for the first time, transfixed. By no means huge, but certainly not too small. Pale nipples angled upwards eagerly. _Perfect_ , he noted. In fact, every damned inch of her was perfect, he thought. His cock throbbed painfully hard at the sight. He was determined to keep his hands off her just until he’d undressed her, yet his patience was running out fast.

The same thoughts ran rampant in Ili’s mind as she stared in wonder at the man before her. So... damn… _perfect_. _Almost too good to be true_ , she thought, as Farwil stared right back down at her with the most beautiful, alluring eyes she’d ever seen - glowing beacons that pulled her in and trapped her, and a smile that could bring an entire city to its knees. A face so perfect must surely have been hand-crafted by the Divines themselves. He was beautiful.

Ili lowered her gaze. She’d spent so many hours in that realm and almost a whole day after, imagining what the Dunmer might look like under his armour, and now she saw him bare, she wasn’t the least bit disappointed. When she placed the palm of her hand in the middle of his muscular chest, grazing the few fine, dark hairs that grew there, Farwil sighed slowly, without realising it. The touch brought him back to the day before, back to when the three of them charged the tower. To every closed door, halfway across every bridge, wherever she’d deemed it necessary to cast her protective magic on him, and only him. To the way she’d touched him. Her shield spell was very weak, and she knew it - but oh, how he’d enjoyed the feeling of being that _important_ … those were the only times he’d listened when Ili begged the men to stop and rest with her.

“What is it?” he asked softly. For a moment he wondered whether she would cast the spell again, and for what reason.

She still only stared on, affection gleaming in her eyes as her gaze travelled back up Farwil’s body, settling on his face. “Nothing, you’re just… really…”

Her hands travelled lovingly along dark, blue-tinged flesh, and she wrapped her arms around Farwil’s strong waist, pressing her small, lithe body agonisingly close as she kissed him. “...Really gorgeous,” she finished.

Hard, eager nipples grazed his skin, and her hips ground into his with far less confidence and assertion than she’d received, but her crotch pressed into his still drove him crazy. He groaned into the Imperial’s mouth - he couldn’t wait any longer.

Gently, so gently, so reluctantly, he eased Ili down onto the edge of the bed, thumb rubbing at the pale skin on her shoulder before he unlaced his leather pants and pulled out his cock, hard as steel and more desperate for her attention than any other part of him. He tried - and failed - to hide a wide smirk at the look on Ili’s face, her eyes fixed on the curved organ. He’d seen that look on enough women before her he’d come to expect it - a mixture of mild terror and excitement. Needless to say, he’d been blessed. Even Ili, with her limited experience of men, could tell that, and she found herself wondering if she’d be able to take him at all. Even with her limited experience of men, she knew what he wanted her to do, and she obliged readily. She steadied herself by placing both hands lightly on Farwil’s hips, and when she began to slide her tongue across the sensitive head, he moaned openly, whole body stiffening, fingers of both hands weaving through her thick hair and grasping tight when she took him into her mouth.

His eyes shut lazily, and his head fell back as a deep sigh escaped him. “Yes… that’s it, Ili…” he crooned.

Had he been able to concentrate on anything other than Ili’s lips and tongue, so wonderfully warm and wet and _curious_ on his manhood, Farwil might’ve noticed the uncertainty in her every move and in the eyes that flicked up to meet his every now and then, especially when he bucked his hips forward, pushing himself further down her throat. She didn’t know what she was doing, that much was obvious. Yet she was clearly putting in effort, and he was able to enjoy it. That was, until her teeth scraped over his generous length, far too roughly, for far too long. Farwil tensed, hissed through his teeth, and pulled out.

He grinned, clearly taking it in his stride. “Ili, you’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen, and you’re probably going to be immortalised in legend for… one feat or another,” the elf said softly. He chuckled. “But you can’t suck a dick to save your life. No offense, of course.”

Ili blushed, and averted her gaze with a guilty smile. It was to be expected, she decided. “Sorry… I’ve never done it before.”

“Not to worry,” Farwil said brightly. He eased Ili onto the bed until she lay with her head on the pillow, propped up on her elbows, and he climbed on top, straddling her. “There’s plenty of time to teach you, and so many things we can do in the meantime…”

With that, he pulled off both her glass-covered pants and her underwear, and threw them aside. He dropped onto his forearms to kiss the girl again for several long minutes without breaking away. Farwil ground his exposed need repeatedly into Ili’s smooth, wet folds. She tensed under him, and cried out in delight as the pressure built on her sensitive clit, over and over. Her back arched, and Farwil silenced her with his own mouth, his hands exploring every curve, every inch of her he could reach. He groped hungrily at her tits, palms massaging firm mounds, rolling nipples between skilled fingers. Ili whimpered in need as Farwil broke away, planting small kisses on her throat and chest, descending further, fingers now replaced with tongue. He sucked her nipple lovingly, carefully, red eyes once again closing with enjoyment. He groaned into her flesh.

Ili wailed into the emptiness of the room. She wound her fingers through long raven hair, but he never stopped. She was like a gift from the gods, and he never wanted to let go. What felt like hours passed, more likely long minutes, before he finally broke away.

“Let me show you how a Knight of the _Thorn_ does it…” Farwil whispered into her ear.

The ornate medallion dangling from the man’s neck sparkled in the moonlight as he adjusted his position above Ili. He pressed the head of his cock lightly against the girl’s tight entrance, and stroked her cheek with his thumb and kissed her forehead as he started to ease in, slowly, inch by inch. She cried out in delight and surprise - surprise at just how delighted she was - and hugged his body closer to hers. The medallion settled on her chest. Shallow, experimental rocking of hips became deeper and deeper as he claimed more and more depth. Eventually he hilted inside, and by then he was trembling.

He didn’t pause or slow down for her, things had gone far too far for that. He’d been waiting for this for so long now… all the time they’d spent together in that wasteland and all the time they’d stood in the Castle, looking the part and exchanging the most inviting of looks while his father announced the victory… it was all torture when all he wanted was to be sheathed between Ili’s thighs. And now he was, she was everything he’d been yearning for. She was so wet, so delightfully hot, so damn tight around him he thought she might actually have been a virgin.

Farwil rutted into her like an animal, driven only by the need for release, and the need to hear his girl screaming his name. Indeed, her long, low moans were like music to his ears. They only made him pound harder into her, feeling her hips roll to meet his thrusts, more and more confident by the minute. For a while they held each other’s gaze, both seeing their own passion mirrored in the other.

Ili was in a world of ecstasy. Her previous experience of men was limited to a single, rather disappointing encounter. After that she hadn’t seen the point in pursuing another. Now the Dunmer’s heavy body pinned her to the bed, his cock pumping in and out of her, filling her delightfully and then leaving her begging for more, she only wished she’d known him from the start.

She felt Farwil’s hot breath collect on her neck, and revelled in the small grunts and sighs that escaped him, so quiet she could only just hear them in her left ear. Her right picked up on the unmistakable sound of another man jerking himself furiously across the room - they’d woken Bremman after all. Farwil had noticed too, it would seem - his pace became wilder, more urgent, his hips slamming erratically into Ili’s, almost painfully hard. He really did get off to that idea… and Ili couldn’t deny the thrill she felt either. Her eyes watered as that special spot inside her was struck again and again, her whimpers of delight could easily be mistaken for cries of agony.

Farwil growled fiercely, panting against Ili’s flesh. He trembled violently, the ferocity of his lovemaking countered oddly by how tenderly he touched his lover. He stroked her flushed cheek again as he bit at her neck lightly. In return she nipped at his ear, just a little pressure from her canine teeth, but just enough to make Farwil groan.

“Ride me Ili…” he breathed in a single beat.

Before she knew what was happening, he’d rolled onto his back and flipped their positions. Ili pressed her hands to the bed, just above the Dunmer’s shoulders to keep her balance, before she got to her knees, straddling him. Farwil gazed up at her with a hungry look in his eyes, and his cock throbbed deep inside of her as if protesting the sudden pause. He wouldn’t last much longer, she knew it.

She wouldn’t either. The Imperial ground her hips experimentally, the hard length pressing inside her was almost painful. She rose on her knees so only the tip of Farwil’s dick was left inside, before swallowing his entire length. She began to ride him. Quickly she became more confident in her movements, forming a wild pace of her own. Shaking hands found their way to Farwil’s heaving chest. She was unbearably close now…

They vaguely registered a quiet guttural sigh from somewhere in the shadows of the room. Their spectator was satisfied, it would seem. Ili was far too close to the edge to care, but Farwil was only spurred on further. He gripped hard on the girl’s hips, bucking frantically up into her as he slammed her down over and over until she began to gasp for air. Somewhere in a string of almost-anguished cries, Ili screamed her lover’s name. Her pussy spasmed around Farwil’s cock, again and again, and he joined her over the edge. With a long, low moan, he spilled inside of her, the frantic bucking of his hips slowing to a halt, and the tight grip on the girl’s body relented.

After the sounds of the bed springs and their own cries had subsided, their heavy breathing seemed loud in the silence that followed. Ili eased her tired body onto Farwil’s, and he welcomed the weight of her, wrapping an arm lazily around her waist. They were both covered in sweat but neither cared. For a minute or two, they laid as they were. Ili rested there happily. Since her eyes were closed Farwil wondered whether she was already sleeping. He continued to watch her for a while before finally pulling out, easing her off, and shifting so he still faced her.

She didn’t open her eyes as she felt his seed leak out of her, and the bedsheets grow wet around her ass. At the delicate yet abrupt clink of a metal chain, the girl’s eyes did open slowly. Farwil unclasped the medallion around his neck.

“Here…”

He slid it off, and after brushing Ili’s golden hair lovingly over one shoulder, he fixed it around her neck.

“You’re one of us now,” Farwil said. “A Knight of the Thorn. Take this and display it proudly.”

Ili smiled weakly, and glanced down at the medallion. Her hand instantly went to her chest, fingers travelling over the intricate motif that hung just above her breasts. “I’m… honoured. But I can’t accept this gift… it’s _your_ medallion.”

“I will have another cast for me first thing in the morning... if it would put your mind at rest?”

Ili never took her eyes off Farwil’s as she nodded. “Thank you… so much,” she said. Her eyelids were heavy as she closed them. The elf pulled her in close, kissed her a final time and pulled the covers over both of them.

“You’re so wonderful,” she continued. “So strong… and generous… and brave… and good at pleasing a woman…”

He smirked. “You do flatter me,” he said softly. His own eyes closed as he embraced Ili. “Now get some proper rest.”

*

*

Farwil Indarys woke to strong sunlight pouring in through the window, and once his eyes adjusted to the brightness, and when he’d woken up enough to take in his surroundings, he discovered he was alone. And the Lodge was so… _quiet_. He sat up in bed, covers pooling about his waist, already intent on getting up and searching the Lodge for his lover. If that proved fruitless, he’d check the city proper. He reasoned she wouldn’t be far. That was before he spotted the small note tucked under the corner of the pillow, just enough under to secure it but also to leave it noticeable. The mer frowned a little and slid it out, and leaned against the wall as he read.

 

 

_Farwil,_

_Last night was like a dream, but it’s time for me to return to reality. I have work to do in other cities. I don’t know how much I can say but we’re trying to end this crisis with the Oblivion gates once and for all, and we need all the help we can get to do that. For yours and your father’s part in this, I’m grateful beyond measure. I want to return to Cheydinhal, if you want me to. After our work is finished, but I don’t know when that might be. I’ll wait for you._

_Always yours_

_Ili_

 

 

Of course, he thought to himself. Of course she’d have to go. It was no coincidence she’d come to Cheydinhal in the first place. He sighed gently, and the sound carried surprisingly far across the empty room - it was so _quiet! _The Lodge would normally have been filled with raucous laughter and chatter by this time in the morning, floorboards groaning incessantly with activity and heavy boots falling… by now he’d usually be dogpiled by Knights, shrieking and laughing, slapping him on the back and congratulating him on the previous night’s carnal conquest.__

__His Knights were gone though, save for his closest friend. Without Ili there in his arms, without her on his lips or his cock, it finally dawned on him. Everything over the last two days had happened so fast, and it was only because of Ili that Farwil had been able to hold onto some feeling of normality. It had departed with her, it would seem._ _

He stared blankly at the note - surely since it was a tie to her it should’ve offered him even a fraction of that denial, that comfort Ili’s presence had offered - he found it to be quite the contrary. He read it through again, and the reality of the situation crept up through him like a chill in his spine. His father had pulled him aside before the celebrations began to inform him that Ili had declined any personal reward for what they’d done - what _she’d_ done. For saving Farwil’s life. It made sense that same girl would leave without a fuss, slip away unnoticed. He thought about that for painful, long minutes. Ili was five years his junior. She was on a mission to _save the whole of Tamriel_. She expected no reward or recognition for doing so. And while he was nothing but a fraud next to her and her accomplishments, she worshipped him. 

And the Lodge was so quiet. 

**Author's Note:**

> I know Farwil has his own bed on the top floor of the Lodge but this bed specifically is the one he decided to go and sleep in during my playthrough, so that's the bed I chose to write about.


End file.
